


Payment

by Clarebear



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2881709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarebear/pseuds/Clarebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malec PWP set after/around City of Ashes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PWP that doesn't follow canon - set sometime around City of Ashes. Prompted by Cassie's post titled "Magnus, Alec, and Sex," which drew me back into the fandom and made me write a one-shot I've had in my mind since first reading the scene on the East River. 
> 
> http://cassandraclare.tumblr.com/post/105579502339/magnus-alec-and-sex

Magnus came to consciousness slowly. It was the pain he felt first, an ache so wide and sharp against his skull that his brain could do nothing but process it. Several seconds passed before memories could seep in around the headache’s edges.

The East River.

Valentine escaping.

Alec giving him his strength.

Magnus forced his mind to orient itself. Where was he? His Brooklyn apartment, in bed. And who was here with him?

“You’re awake,” came Alec’s voice.

Magnus squinted. Not because it was dark—his cat eyes saw better at night than in the day—but because it was the only way his vision would cooperate beneath the blur of pain.

Alec sat on the floor of Magnus’ bedroom, his back propped against the wall, his stele idle in his hands. He still wore his gear. He hadn’t turned any lights on; the only brightness came from the night city shining in through the bedroom windows behind him.

Magnus watched Alec make his way to his feet. He slipped his stele into his pocket and wiped his hands on the back of his pants. He moved closer to the bed.

Magnus swallowed. “So you’re breaking and entering now, Shadowhunter?” he tried teasing. He half expected his voice to come out raspy and frail, an appropriate manifestation of how miserable he felt. It was almost mocking to hear himself sound normal.

Alec shook his head. “You gave me your keys before…you know.” He paused, looked down. He jammed his hands in his back pockets. “….Before you passed out.”

Magnus didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember much toward the end. It didn’t surprise him, though. Using as much of his magic as he did… Fool. He had come close to depleting his reserves.

This soul-splitting headache was his body’s way of punishing him for his recklessness.

“I set them on the table,” Alec said. “Your keys.”

Magnus nodded. It didn’t matter. The keys were a showpiece, a worthless remnant of human tradition that he for some reason hung onto. His apartment was guarded by much more than a few pieces of metal. The place was outfitted with more wards and enchantments than Idris. The only way someone could enter was if Magnus allowed him.

Which he must have had Alec.

Magnus didn’t remember that either.

“I wanted to stay until you woke up,” Alec said. Magnus winced as he attempted to prop himself up against the headboard. “Make sure you’re okay.”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow. “Yes. We immortals often run the risk of spontaneously dying overnight.”

Alec blushed. He looked away.

Magnus wanted to make another joke about how he preferred his sick nurses dressed in sexy uniforms anyway, but he stopped himself. Alec was uncomfortable enough as it was, and pain often took the playfulness out of Magnus’ sarcasm. He didn’t want what he said to be taken the wrong way.

Alec looked too vulnerable the way he was standing there.

Watching him, Magnus was a thousand years old. He could feel all the seams and scars that didn’t show on his skin but patterned his insides. He felt like a piece of ancient pottery that had been worn down over centuries. Edges worn dull, surface spidered with cracks.

Alec was clay that had yet to even harden. Smooth and supple and whole, a work of art that was still in the process of being sculpted.

Alec shook his hair out of his eyes. “What you did…,“ he began, and paused. He took a breath and let it out. He tried again. “Last night, you saved our lives. Without you, my friends… my family… all of us.” He swallowed. “We’d be dead. I want to repay you for what you did.”

Magnus watched him. His voice was soft when he said, “I don’t want your lunch money, Shadowhunter.”

“I’m not offering it,” Alec said. Pale skin was paler beneath where Alec's shirt had been. He let the black fabric drop onto the floor, his shoulders slightly hunched, his arms slinking around his bare stomach as if he could hide his insecurity. In the cool air, a shiver of goosebumps dusted over his bare arms, his tiny nipples drawn tight.

Magnus couldn’t drag his eyes from the lines of Alec’s chest, the wiry muscles and shadows of ribs, the dark ink of new marks and echoes of old bruises.

He realized he was slowly shaking his head, and wasn’t sure if it was at the beauty of the boy in front of him, or at what Alec was offering.

He pushed himself straighter, grimacing at how even slightly moving his head made his brain slosh around in his skull. He was too ill for this. Too old.

Alec stepped out of his pants. His briefs. He stood, curved in on himself against the cold, looking at Magnus. His voice was hardly above a whisper. “What do you want me to do?”

Magnus knew this couldn’t happen. Not like this. Not tonight. But what he heard himself say was, “Come here.”

In the space of a breath, Alec was in his bed, under the sheets. Close enough that Magnus could feel the coolness from his skin. Not an inch of them touching. Alec looked up at the ceiling, the flatness of his chest rising as he took in an unsteady breath.

Magnus thought of what he had said moments earlier, the teasing comment about his immortality. Alec attempting to seduce him might just be enough to kill him right now, eternal life or not.

“What are you doing here?” he heard himself ask. Magnus didn’t intend for the question to come out as accusing as it sounded, but his mind was working too sluggishly to be diplomatic.

Alec turned his head to look at him. Those eyes, clear blue, the Pacific in summer, the afterglow of a Catherine Wheel curse. Pupils dilated in the dark.

“I mean it,” Magnus softened his tone. “None of this nonsense about repayment or thanks. Everything that happened last night—anything I did, it was because I wanted to. What are you doing here, Alec?”

Alec didn’t say anything. He shifted, so slightly he barely moved, lifting his neck just enough to brush his lips against Magnus’.

It was contact, not a kiss, but still, a part of Magnus roared, the base part of his brain flashing a series of images. Alec naked and Alec beneath his hands, Alec drawn on top of him with his knees snug around Magnus’ sides so the warlock could watch him take his pleasure.

Magnus pressed his eyes shut. He resisted the urge to shake his head to clear his mind. His brain couldn’t bear the jostling. “Not good enough,” he said, as much to himself as to Alec. “You need to tell me why you’re here.”

Alec’s expression was almost confused. “You know why,” he finally said. He still wasn’t breathing quite evenly; his exhale caught shakily on the way out. “I want this. You.”

It was enough, and Magnus’ mouth was over his, pressing Alec down into the pillows. The light-headedness came from the sudden motion and his migraine, Magnus knew this, but there was enough of a romantic still in him that he couldn’t help but connect it to the kiss. Alec let out an involuntary little half-moan against his lips, something between a gasp and a sigh and a keen, and in that moment Magnus would have given up all his magic for good if it meant hearing that sound again.

It didn’t surprise him, what Alec said about wanting him. Magnus knew he was an attractive man, confident and powerful and wealthy. More importantly, he was interested, and had told Alec so unequivocally. That alone was enough to attract an insecure closeted kid with daddy issues and a helplessly unrequited crush.

What Magnus was less sure of was what Alec meant by “this.”

He asked him, or tried to, the words catching between their mouths. When he pulled back to allow Alec to answer, the kid arched up to find him again.

“What?” Alec breathed in, wearing the half-dazed look of someone who’d finished a bottle of Fae wine.

“This,” Magnus repeated, refusing to let himself taste the ridge of Alec’s Adam’s apple until he answered. “You said you wanted this. What is ‘this'?”

Alec shook his head, still searching out Magnus’ lips. “Whatever you want it to mean,” he murmured mindlessly.

Magnus pulled back further, sitting on his heels. Alec instinctively attempted to follow him before sinking back against the pillows.

“You need to make some decisions, Shadowhunter,” Magnus told him. “This isn’t all up to me.”

Alec levered himself onto his elbows, his chest lifting and lowering, his lips an indecent shade of red.

“I came here, didn’t I?”

His tone wasn’t sharp, just strong, his gaze as steady as Magnus’ own. He was an artist’s muse, an angel that begged to be debauched.

Magnus gave up. Alec was young, not naïve. He knew what he was asking for. He drew his shirt over his head by its collar.

Alec received his weight completely, his body a perfect fit beneath Magnus’. He twisted his head, breathing in sharply, to give Magnus better access to his neck. His hands fluttered over the bare skin of Magnus’ back, not quite feeling, before his fists twisted in the bedsheets.

Magnus managed to pause where he was kissing the curl of Alec’s ear, “Don’t tell me you haven’t done this before.”

Alec nodded. “Okay,” he said.

Magnus dropped his forehead onto Alec’s shoulder, forcing himself not to groan. Liar. More likely than not, this was the first time Alec had been in another man’s bed.

Magnus rolled his weight to the side.

“Slow,” he told himself aloud, “We’ll take this slowly.”

Alec shook his head, attempting to grip onto Magnus’ shoulders to keep him on top of him.

“Yes,” Magnus insisted.

“I want this,” Alec said. “Magnus, I—“

“I know,” Magnus interrupted. “I’m not saying no, I’m just saying we should slow down. Trust me, it will be better if it’s slower.”

Alec nodded quickly, as if trying to convince himself. He closed his eyes, using his hands to push his hair away from his face. He spent several seconds taking deep breaths.

As their pulses began to return to a more regular pace, Alec spoke without opening his eyes. “I’ve just wanted this for a really long time.”

Magnus watched him. A part of him might have smiled. Alec didn’t know what time was. His seventeen years were a heartbeat, a hiccup, a scratch on the surface of eternity. But he knew what the kid meant. Alec wasn’t talking about Magnus. Alec was talking about men. The soul-deep need to feel broad hands on his body, to be covered by muscle and sinew and sweat-covered skin. The endless _want_.

Magnus knew what it was like to love men and be scared he wasn’t supposed to.

Even though Alec couldn’t see him, he felt himself nodding. “I know,” he said again. When Alec opened his eyes to look at him, Magnus said, “I promise I’ll give you whatever you want, okay?”

He waited for Alec to nod before leaning in to press a kiss against his lips.

Alec swallowed. After some time, he said, “I thought downworlders were supposed to be evil. Yesterday you saved our lives, now you’re making me promises… You’re more selfless than most shadowhunters I know.”

Magnus gave a small snort. “Yes,” he said, “Having you naked beneath me in my bed is a real sacrifice. I expect the Angels are planning out ways to reward me for my altruism as we speak.”

Alec smiled, looking away again as color rose in his cheeks. Magnus felt his lips curve upward, watching him.

After a few moments, he said, “Alec.” He waited, wanting the kid’s eyes. Blue against blue, sapphires in the dark.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Alec’s skin was warm beneath his palm, heated from his body being beneath the bedclothes and from what they’d started before. Despite the temperature, goosebumps rose beneath Magnus’ hand.

Alec dragged in a half-ragged breath, his eyes pressing shut. Magnus watched him carefully, studying his face and the way he held his breath as Magnus smoothed his hand over his chest, down his side.

“Yes?” he asked, uncertain.

“Yes,” Alec breathed out. He pressed his head back into the pillow, arching ever so slightly.

Magnus erred on the side of apology. “It’s the magic,” he said. “I can’t help it.”

Alec nodded quickly. “It’s okay." His muscles were tighter than wire as he let Magnus continue to drift his palm over the planes of his chest, his belly. But when Magnus moved lower, Alec jerked and caught his wrist.

Magnus tried taking back his hand. Alec grasped onto it. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out, shaking his head. He swore beneath his breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“Alec, if it’s—”

“No! No, it’s not that, I just—” Alec let go of Magnus’ wrist to push his hands through his own hair, holding it back from his face as he had before. His cheeks flushed red in the dark. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to last.”

When Magnus registered what he meant, he lowered his head to hide his smile against the smoothness of Alec’s stomach. He placed a trail of kisses around the circle of his bellybutton. “Well aren’t you an easy date,” he murmured.

Alec didn’t respond, just sucked in another breath and held onto it.

Some of Magnus’ former partners had been rubbed the wrong way by the magic that hummed in his hands. They described the sensation as static or a pinch of electricity. It was the reason Magnus had become so good at using his mouth. Alec evidently belonged to the group that had an opposite sort of reaction.

Magnus nosed his way across Alec’s abdomen, not using his hands, pressing kisses wherever he wished. Freckles and bruises and the edges of marks. The smooth line down the center of Alec’s stomach to his bellybutton again, and lower, where fine blond hairs began to darken into black.

“Oh, By the Angel,” Alec gasped. He squirmed. “Magnus, I—“

Magnus trailed his lips across to find the gorgeous curve of the boy’s hip, the faint ridge of muscle that led inwards and down. Fluttery kisses, more touch than tongue.

“You what, darling?” he teased.

“Oh—” Alec breathed in. “Oh.” His hips gave a helpless little stutter, and it was over, simple as that.

Magnus could hardly be disappointed. Between the combination of the boy’s response to his magic, this being his first real experience with the gender that interested him, and the non-inconsequential matter of being seventeen, it would have been unfair to expect Alec to last longer than he did.

But as Magnus rose up, moving to silence Alec’s mantra of apologies with his lips, he couldn’t help but lick a line through the stickiness left on his stomach. It was the demon part of him, he supposed, that wanted the taste. Something to hold onto in case Alec never came back to his bed.

“Hush,” he said, cutting Alec off mid-sorry, drawing him against him so the kid could hide his embarrassment in Magnus’ neck. “If anything,” he smiled, “You should be proud. It’s a rare talent to come without being touched.”

Whatever Alec mumbled into his shoulder told Magnus that the kid did not agree. Magnus laughed, and allowed his head to rest back against the bedframe. Gently. It still felt like his brain was detached from its bindings.

He let a careful hand rest on Alec’s shoulder, lightly smoothing it down his arm. The gesture was meant to be comforting, but the gooseflesh that flared beneath his touch told him he didn’t quite succeed.

Alec lifted his eyes.

“That feeling,” he said. He shivered. “Do you feel that too?”

Magnus shook his head.

“Oh,” Alec said. He nodded. He tucked his head back beneath Magnus’ chin. After a few moments, he said, “I wish you did. It’s like…” he struggled to find the right word. “It feels like…”

“Magic?” Magnus finally suggested.

He felt Alec smile.

“Yeah,” Alec said. “It feels like magic.”

Magus could have explained how it felt different to each his partners. The unique reaction of their blood to his blood, the way their spirit mingled with his. How it only happened during moments of intimacy; that he could shake Alec’s hand in the morning on the subway and he’d feel nothing but flesh.

But the quiet was too peaceful to disturb with such useless details.

He allowed his eyes to drift closed.

“Magnus?”

“Hmm.”

“Do you want me to… I realize you didn’t… Or I didn’t…”

Magnus’ lips tugged upward at the boy’s uncertainty. “Yes, I want you to,” he said, not opening his eyes. “But no, not right now. It’s been a long day. Very gentlemanly of you to ask, though.”

Alec nodded. Several more minutes passed before he said, “I want to, too. Whenever you feel better. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to make you feel like you just made me. And I’ll last longer next time. I’ll know what to expect.”

Magnus nodded to show him he heard. He threaded his fingers through Alec’s hair, allowing his palm to rest heavy against his head. It wasn’t true, though, what the kid said. The part about him lasting longer. Next time, Magnus planned to make full use of his mouth. But the good thing about seventeen year olds was how quickly they were ready again. Already, Magnus could tell by the way Alec’s fingertips were exploring the span of his chest—tentative and featherlight, all secret curiosity—that the boy could go again soon.

So young, Magnus thought again. It made his heart ache. One more hurt to add to his old bones and tired brain.

“Magnus?”

“Hmm.”

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Magnus weighed his response. He followed the sensation of Alec’s fingertip tracing a circle around one of his nipples, avoiding the center as if it were something he didn’t quite dare touch.

“I don’t want to go home,” Alec said.

“Your parents know where you are?”

“They know I’m safe.”

Magnus exhaled, too tired to worry, too tired to do anything but what felt easy and right.

“I suppose that’s good enough, then. We can sort the rest out later.”

Alec pressed his palm flat against his chest, the slightest of pressure from each of his five fingertips over Magnus’ heart. He let his hand relax.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Okay, then."


	2. Two

Of all the things Magnus imagined he’d wake up to the next morning, the last on the list was Alec Lightwood making pancakes.

Magnus trudged into his kitchen, dressed in silk pajama pants and nothing else. His migraine had improved to what could be described as the worst hangover in the world. Every inch of him was sore, but at least his brain no longer felt like it was going to cleave into pieces.

Alec stood over the stove, spatula in hand. “Move,” he said under his breath, looking at down at where Chairman was mewling annoyingly around his ankles.

Magnus leaned against the side of the refrigerator. “Shadowhunter by night, Betty Homemaker by day… How did I get so lucky?”

Alec started, nearly stepping on Charmian’s tail. After seeing it was Magnus and not an imminent demon threat, he turned back to the stove. “Hi,” he said. Magnus could see his ears turning red. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

It turned out not to be morning after all; the clock on the oven said it was after 3pm. Alec must have gone back to the institute earlier in the day. He was dressed in new clothes. Or, old clothes, rather. A threadbare sweater that would cover his hands if he didn’t keep hiking it up over his elbows, and faded trousers that Magnus had seen drifters wearing in the seventies.

Magnus stooped to pet Chairman, who had slinked over to investigate the warlock’s first trip out of bed in a day and a half. The cat quickly lost interest, and so did Magnus. He moved over behind Alec to press a gratuitous kiss to the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help himself. Alec became increasingly adorable the more uncomfortable he was.

“So should I just make you your own set of keys?” he asked, bracing his hands against the edge of the stove so he trapped Alec between his arms. He nosed the hair behind Alec’s ear. “In case you wanted to come back and forth with the dry cleaning and groceries and everything else Mundanes do for their working men?”

Alec shook his head, too flustered to do anything else. Magnus supposed after last night it would take a bit for them to work up to a banter.

He let the kid alone, retreating to the table to sink down into a chair. It was marvelous, not feeling like his skull was about to burst. He watched Alec transfer a couple pancakes onto a plate.

Magnus could have happily sat in silence, but for Alec's sake, he broke the tension.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Izzy.”

“Your sister taught you?”

“Not exactly.” Alec glanced over his shoulder. “She taught me to do anything to avoid her cooking. I guess I mostly taught myself.”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow. “Self-made man. Very impressive.”

Alec delivered him a look more annoyed than embarrassed, and Magnus grinned. He laced his fingers behind his head. Alec set the plate of pancakes in front of him, and Magnus leaned forward, digging in. He had just managed the immortal equivalent of coming back from the dead; he would give himself at least one meal before worrying how easy it would be to get used to this.

 

\----

After their breakfast-lunch hybrid, Magnus indulged himself with a bubble bath while Alec cleaned up the kitchen. He supposed he should feel guilty for not offering to help, but there was something soothing about listening to the clink of dishes and running of sink water. It had been a long time since he’d heard something so domestic.

He left the bathroom door open so he could hear better, and to let Alec know that he was welcome to join him. It was an invitation without pressure that Magnus expected to see declined, and it was. With the exception of making himself an unsolicited house guest, Alec didn’t seem comfortable making any forward moves.

When Magnus joined him in the living room, Alec was hunched forward, elbows on his knees, watching some reality TV show.

“Fascinating stuff?” he asked, slumping down on the other side of the sofa.

Alec shook his head, disbelief evident. “These people… They’re insane. Not in a good way, like in a worrisome way. I can’t believe I ever though Izzy was one for drama. These people make her look like a Silent Brother.”

He glanced at Magnus, and quickly looked back at the TV. For some inexplicable reason, he started blushing again. The boy had an extra supply of blood flow just for his face.

It took several moments for him to say, “You’re not wearing any makeup.”

Magnus gave him an arch look. “Do all Shadowhunters come with such a keen sense of observation, or is this something they train into you boys.”

Alec managed to ignore the comment. He took another look at Magnus. “You look different…” he said. “I think it’s your eyes. You look more…”

“Asian?” Magnus suggested, as Alec said, “Manly.”

Magnus was affronted.

“Not that you aren’t usually manly,” Alec rushed to add. “You’re just… With your makeup, you look… you look too pretty,” he finished lamely.

“Pretty!? And here I’ve spent all these past decades trying to be a strapping lumberjack type.”

Alec looked away again. He bunched the ends of his too-long sleeves in his hands, a nervous habit.

“I like it,” he mumbled. He looked at the TV, and then looked out the window. “I like you both ways.”

Wondering if he was developing a fetish for awkwardness, Magnus grabbed Alec by his oversized sweater and yanked him closer. Alec toppled onto him. Magnus inhaled from his hair, wincing as Alec’s hands and knees pressed into inconvenient places as the boy shifted his balance.

Levered over him, Alec gazed down, their faces inches apart. For once, he didn’t feel the need to break eye contact. Moments passed with the two of them breathing together, the only movement coming from the rise and fall of their chests.

It would have been so easy for Magnus to lean up and kiss him. It’s what Alec wanted, what he was waiting for. But Magnus had brought them this far. He would wait for Alec to do the rest.

It took Alec an eternity to bridge the gap between them.

He moved hesitantly, unsure of himself, coming closer only to falter and pause. As if in some crazy world he imagined Magnus might reject him. When his lips finally brushed against Magnus’, they were soft and light and perfect.

Magnus made Alec lead. Alec tested the feel of the kiss, tentatively exploring the way their lips fit together. Slow and uncertain, and then braver, venturing to new angles, a quicker pace. The pressure remained soft, as if he didn’t want to demand anything, but he became less apologetic in what he was asking for.

Magnus opened his mouth to him.

Alec made a small noise in his throat, surging forward, more completely onto Magnus’ lap and more completely into the kiss. It was a lighter version of the helpless half-moan, half-keen from the night before, and Magnus felt it straight in his groin.

His reaction magnified that of the boy’s, and the kiss changed, the cadence speeding up, the pressure more certain in its want. There was no question now about what this was and where it was going. Magnus meant to keep Alec leading but he found himself less and less able, not when it felt as good as it did to drive their lips together harder, not when Alec responded by struggling closer, all elbows and knees, trying to wrap himself around him.

He was eager, almost desperate, clutching Magnus like he was something rare he’d found that would soon be taken away.

“Hey,” Magnus breathed, managing to free his lips. “I’m not going anywhere. I meant it, last night—you can have anything you want.”

Alec did one of his short, quick nods. He let his forehead rest against Magnus’, only for a millisecond, before seeking his mouth again.

Magnus forced himself not to return the kiss, not yet. He rubbed his nose against Alec’s, just a moment longer. “Slow,” he reminded him. “Yeah?”

Alec let out an unsteady breath. “Yeah,” he said.

When their mouths reconnected, it was with a touch more gentleness. The urgency was still there, just not as rushed, a slow build instead of a sprint. Alec remembered that Magnus’ shirt hid something he wanted, something he could have, and his hands began exploring beneath the fabric. He moved his knees to either side of Magnus’ waist to have better leverage.

In a motion more instinctive than anything else, he rolled his hips downward, and caught a noise in his throat when hardness met hardness. He dropped his forehead to Magnus’ shoulder, breathing out something that might have been a prayer or a curse, Magnus couldn’t tell. His hips repeated the action.

Magnus let him take the friction he wanted, not quite meeting him, just allowing him the sensation. He remembered how this felt like sin, once, like nothing in the world should be allowed to feel that good. He nuzzled his cheek against Alec’s. “Now,” he said, “If I touch you with my hands, are you going to come?”

Alec let out a shaky half laugh. “Maybe,” he said, taking Magnus off guard with his smile. His parted lips sought out Magnus’ throat, his jaw, his mouth. His voice became serious again before he whispered, “Please?”

Magnus couldn’t remember a time in which manners had been so sexy. His hands were on the kid before he could think, beneath his shirt, dragging over fire-hot skin and feeling Alec arch and shudder against him.

Alec’s moan fell into Magnus’ mouth and Magnus devoured it, devoured him, stripping off his sweater and flipping him to his back so he could nudge a knee between his legs and give Alec something more solid to grind against.

He had one hand gripping the back of Alec’s neck, keeping their mouths tight together so he could taste all the kid’s little noises, the other helping where Alec was scrabbling to remove his trousers, when he remembered himself. Remembered his words a minute ago.

He tore their lips apart, letting out a curse in a demonic tongue that would make even his father blush.

“Slow,” he said under his breath, purely to himself this time.

Alec shook his head, kicking his pants off his foot and working to drag Magnus’ mouth back onto his.

Magnus nodded, insisting, switching their positions so Alec was back on top of him. He dragged his hands down Alec’s sides and loved the way the kid’s back arched, his limbs stopped struggling. A pair of cats, the both of them, just wanting to be petted. Clutching him by his rear, he scooted Alec forward.

“Oh,” Alec breathed in, and then “Oh!” as Magnus took him in his mouth.

Alec didn’t know what to do with his hands. He fumbled at the back of the couch, the wall, the armrest. He hunched forward, catching his weight on the seat cushion by Magnus’ head, his palm pressing down on a portion of Magnus’ un-gelled hair. The pulling would have been painful had Magnus not just survived the prior day’s headache, and if he were capable of paying attention to anything but Alec above him.

“Oh,” Alec gasped. His eyes squeezed shut. “Oh God and all the Angels.”

Magnus, and what he was doing with his tongue, were a far cry from Godlike, and Alec was coming anyway, his hips stuttering, his buttocks clenching beneath the grip of Magnus’ palms.

Alec kept himself braced over Magnus afterward. His shoulders shuddered with residual tremors. “Sorry,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t…” Another shiver ran through him. “Oh my God,” he exhaled.

Magnus relaxed against the coach cushions. He felt unusually pleased with himself for something that was over in seconds.

“I don’t…” Alec was still struggling to put thoughts into words. “I don’t even know what that was, you’re just... I get it, now," he said. "Why Izzy is always going after Downworlders.”

Magnus laughed. In an uncharacteristic show of theatrics, Alec let himself slide off the side of the couch to lie on his back on the floor. He closed his eyes, another shiver coursing through him.

Magnus shifted his weight to watch him. So slight it was almost imperceptible, but the corners of Alec’s lips curved up into a smile. Magnus had only known him a short while, even by human standards, but this was the first time he seemed almost happy.

Alec breathed in like he was going to say something, most likely another apology, but was interrupted by a buzzing on the floor. His cell phone in his discarded pants pocket.

He opened his eyes. “Shit,” he exhaled. He went fumbling for it. “Sorry,” he said, glancing up at Magnus. “It could be my dad.”

The conversation wasn’t more than a few words, but whatever was said had Alec moving to put on his trousers.

“It’s the institute,” he explained, stumbling a bit as he tried to fit his foot through the appropriate opening. “I have to go back. Not an emergency, just…” He paused as he fastened the zipper, looking slightly sheepish. “I forgot we had a meeting tonight.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows. “You naughty boy.”

Alec fought his way into his old sweater, stretching it even larger than it was already. No wonder the thing was four sizes too big for him.

Magnus yawned, contented. He tucked his elbow beneath his chin, watching Alec try dig a wayward sock out from beneath the sofa.

“I’m not sure how I should be feeling right now,” Magnus commented. “You come over, you butter me up with breakfast food and then have your way with me in my living room. I believe my mother warned me about boys like you.”

Alec gave him a dry look. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re a perfectly innocent flower judging by whatever you just did with your mouth.”

Magnus smiled. He listened as Alec went into the kitchen in search of wherever he'd left his shoes.

“I’m coming back.” Alec raised his voice to be heard from the other room. “After the meeting. Is that okay?”

“You haven’t asked permission to enter my apartment before. You're starting now?”

“I’m taking your keys.” Alec called, ignoring him. “I’ll be back around dark.”

“Yes, honey.”

Magnus heard the entry door open and close, and would have been certain Alec had left had the kid not suddenly been standing over him, dropping down to take Magnus’ face in his hands. He kissed him hard, almost possessively, not asking for permission, just taking what he wanted. His fingers threaded through Magnus’ still-damp hair and tightened. The kiss only broke when they both needed air, and then Alec was gone, back out the door.

Magnus had to keep himself from lifting his fingertips to his lips. He wasn’t sure what it meant. A thank you, maybe, or an apology for leaving things in the middle. A promise that he planned to return.

Regardless, whatever the kiss meant, it was a sign Alec was feeling more sure of himself. A fast learner, Magnus thought, smiling. He caught himself on the path his thoughts were heading down, and his smile slowly faded. A hell of a lot faster of a learner than Magnus, apparently. The last thing the warlock needed was his heart broken by another beautiful boy.


	3. Three

Alec made Magnus’ apartment his second home. When he wasn’t at training he was in Magnus’ kitchen, making more use of his oven than the warlock had since moving in, or he was in Magnus’ bedroom beneath his hands. It was an exercise in balance for the both of them—how far could they take things before Alec toppled over the edge.

It took until Tuesday for Alec to stop holding his breath when Magnus touched him. The warlock would laugh, nosing his jawline, his ear. “Breathe,” he’d remind him, after Alec would take in a gulp of air. “If you don’t, I’m going to stop.”

Alec would exhale, shaking his head, clutching onto Magnus as if the warlock would actually carry through on the threat. It was in bits and pieces like this that Magnus got to explore Alec’s body. If he wasn’t pulling back to allow Alec to regain control, he was forcing himself to let the kid have his own exploration without interfering.

For a tactile person, it was nearly impossible. Magnus tightened his teeth against the need to thread his fingers through Alec’s hair while the boy was testing the pressure of his grip around him, or when he first knelt to taste him with his tongue. On this latter occasion Magnus failed miserably, eventually clutching at Alec’s head, cradling his face. He had to close his eyes against the way Alec moaned around him, the boy’s hand moving between his own legs to help along the inevitable.

Afterward, Magnus had draped himself shamelessly across his sofa, taking the opportunity to file his nails in the nude. Alec, always one for modesty, had recovered his clothes, and sat at the counter with a knee drawn up to his chest.

He watched Magnus. “The others,” he said after a while. “There were women, too?”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow, more at the unexpectedness of the question than its content. He flicked his nail file dismissively. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Recently?”

“Define recent,” Magnus said, relinquishing his roost on the couch. He moved over to Alec. “I’ve gone through every phase imaginable, most of them more than once. Being with women is one of them.”

Alec nodded. Magnus sensed there was a question under the question, and waited.

“How do you know,” Alec eventually asked, looking into the kitchen to avoid looking at Magnus, “whether you like only men, or if you’re into women too.”

“Is this particular to me, or is this just a question in general.”

“In general. How do you know what you are. I think I only like men, but it’s not like I’m grossed out by women. Maybe one day—”

“Alec,” Magnus said. “What you are is a hell of a lot more than whom you’re sleeping with that week. You don’t need to find a label for yourself. There are more than enough people out there that are happy to do it for you.”

He took hold of Alec’s hand, leading it to the place between his legs. “You like this?” he asked.

Alec immediately looked away again, color burning in his cheeks. He managed to nod.

“And you liked having me in your mouth,” Magnus stated for him. That’s what triggered this; the kid’s first overtly gay act of his own initiation. “That’s all you need to worry about for now. You can figure out what you want to call yourself later.”

 

\-----

 

On Wednesday, Magnus took Alec out on their first real date. He brought him to a Korean barbeque place on the west side, a hole in the wall where the waitress was a pixie friend of his.

On the way there, Alec was quiet. Magnus was long used to the extra attention he drew in from his hair and his height, not to mention his wardrobe, but Alec folded in on himself beneath the curiosity. He walked far enough away from Magnus that their shoulders had no risk of brushing.

After a third oncoming passerby turned sideways to slip between them, Magnus grabbed Alec and yanked him over. “If I’m taking you on a date, you’re going to have to pretend you know me.”

Alec looked down, blushing, either from Magnus’ comment or the way Magnus had locked his arm around his shoulder and wasn’t moving it. Tourists from middle America gaped.

The restaurant was packed, but Fera got them a table in the back near the bathrooms. They hunched over the menus. Alec still wasn’t looking at him, so Magnus nudged him with his foot under the table. Alec rewarded him with a hint of a smile, his gaze not lifting from the appetizer page.

Magnus ordered for them both, switching between Fera’s pixie dialect and her human tongue, Korean. Alec drank more water than Magnus thought humans needed to consume, clearly doing whatever he could to avoid having to make conversation.

It was okay. The noise and bustle of the restaurant was cozy, and Magnus liked people watching, almost as much as he liked eating dinner with an awkward and near-silent Alec. He stretched out, accidentally tripping people with his long legs as they tried making their way to the restrooms.

Well, mostly accidentally. He was part demon, after all.

Once Magnus paid the check, Alec leaned forward, and surprised Magnus by placing a hand on his wrist. He slowly worked his fingers in between Magnus’ so they were holding hands. From the look in his eyes, Magnus knew that Alec was feeling the same way he was.

“Let’s go home,” Alec said.

 

\-----

 

Throughout the cab ride, Magnus played with Alec’s palm and fingers, getting used to the feel of his hand in his. Somewhat sweaty. Strong, but not overly calloused. Alec nearly dragged him from the still-moving taxi into his building. The elevator ride to Magnus’ floor was long; the process of unlocking the manual locks to his unit even longer.

Alec was against him before he even closed the door. His arms wired around Magnus’ neck, his lips searching and eager. Magnus pushed him back into the kitchen. He hoisted him so Alec was sitting on the countertop. Alec dragged his shirt off over his head.

“Who knew you were such a fan of Korean barbeque?” Magnus asked, kissing his way across Alec’s stomach. Alec was doing a fine job of ruining his hair; he had his arms around Magnus’ head, half tangling his fingers in his hair, half trying to pull Magnus’ shirt off as well.

Magnus started using his hands and Alec breathed in, giving up as he dropped back to his elbows on the countertop. “Oh my god,” he inhaled, his neck stretching long as his head tipped back.

There was something irresistible about the way his stomach lifted and fell, and Magnus was crawling over him, pressing kisses in all his favorite places. Alec squirmed beneath his hands, arching up to get closer, at the same time, trying to drag Magnus harder down.

He scrabbled again at Magnus’ shirt and this time succeeded, dropping it the side where it knocked over a pair of wineglasses set out to dry near the sink.

At the sound of breaking glass, Alec struggled to move. “Shit—“

Magnus shook his head. “Cheap ones,” he cut him off with a lie. “It’s fine.”

They were gifts from the last in a dying line of monarchs from over a half century ago, but Magnus would have broken them himself to keep Alec exactly where he was.

Alec nodded and found Magnus’ lips again, refocusing his attention on removing what was left of their clothes.

When they were naked and moving against each other, Alec’s head dropped sideways to allow Magnus’ mouth full access to his throat. “I want to have sex,” he said, pressing kisses along Magnus’ jaw.

“Really,” Magnus commented. His hand went to find the hardness between Alec’s legs. “Never would have guessed.”

Alec let out the names of several Angels, all of whom Magnus was pretty sure wanted no part in what he was getting up to with a downworlder.

“Stop,” Alec breathed, knocking away Magnus’ hand. “You know I can’t—you know I’ll come.”

“That’s sort of the point.”

Alec caught his hand when he tried again. “I mean it.” He almost laughed. “That’s cheating. You said you’d give me what I want.”

He giggled and squirmed, flipping to his stomach to hide what Magnus wouldn’t stop reaching for.

Magnus placated himself by kissing across the lines of the boy’s shoulderblades, the ridge of his spine. He hadn’t spent nearly enough time adoring the beauty of his back.

When his smile had faded, Alec made a comment with his cheek squished against the granite. “The countertop is warm,” he said. “Is that you?”

It was. Magnus had moved some heat into it when he’d realized the kid’s skin would be pressed against it. The feline in him was very conscious of cool surfaces.

“Do you do this for all the boys you bring back to ravage in your kitchen?”

Magnus nodded. “The women as well. Believe it or not, they’re often more sensitive to cold than men are.”

Alec gave him a dirty look over his shoulder, but Magnus could tell he was smiling as he tucked his head back on top of his folded arms. He shivered as Magnus ran his hands up his arms, laying his body down on top of Alec’s as if to blanket him.

Alec made a small noise of satisfaction, his hips rolling instinctively downward. “So good,” he said beneath an exhale.

Magnus had to agree.

“Okay, Shadowhunter,” he said, nuzzling his nose next to Alec’s ear. “Now that you’re getting greedy, what is it that you want?”

Alec didn’t know how to answer. He tried to find words. “You mean like…”

“What is that you think about, when you’re alone. Top? Bottom? Do you have a preference?”

Magnus could feel Alec’s cheeks were hot beneath him. Alec shook his head. “Should I?” he managed. “I just think about… I think I think about everything.”

Magnus felt himself smile. He pressed a kiss against the reddened curl of Alec’s ear. “I’m quite versatile myself.”

 

\-----

 

They moved to Magnus’ bedroom. Magnus closed the drapes with a wave of his hand. As an afterthought, he moved tea candles from a drawer in the living room and scattered them about the surfaces in the room.

When he lit them with a snap of his fingers, Alec gave him a dry look.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.

“Fine, the snap was for show. I can light them with my mind alone. Was just trying not to brag.”

“I mean the candles in general.”

“This is a big moment, Lightwood. We’re doing this right.”

Magnus started a seventeenth-century sonata playing on his surround sound system. Alec stared at him, his expression flat.

“Too much?” Magnus asked. He switched the music to some southern American rap, turning the volume down. “Better?”

“Well it couldn’t be worse.” Alec sat down on the bed. “Next thing I know, there are going to be rose petals falling from your ceiling and a bottle of champagne.”

He looked up.

Magnus played at innocence. “What?” he said helplessly. “It was a good idea!”

He walked over to hand Alec his glass of champagne. Alec took a drink, ignoring the red and black petals falling around him. Magnus had taken some liberties with the colors. Alec’s lips were curved upward when he finished his sip.

“Is this how they did it back in the olden days?”

“With women, yes. With men, it was in the back alleys of gambling dens with stray dogs barking around your ankles and a hell of a lot more guilt.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“Oh, terribly.”

Alec took another sip, hiding in his smile in his flute.

“Magnus,” he said, once the warlock had taken his glass and set it on the nightstand next to his own. “You’ve done this a lot before—”

“Hey now,” Magnus shot him an offended glance.

“You know what I mean,” Alec said, dropping his shoulders in apology. “You know what you’re doing. You know what you like… what you don’t like… what if I’m not very good?”

“Well the first thing I’m doing is revoking your temporary apartment access privileges, that’s for sure. You can hand in your homemade empanadas from the crack in the door.”

“I’m being serious.”

“No, you’re being stupid,” Magnus said. He took Alec’s jaw in his hand, turning his face upward so he could kiss some sense into him. “And I don’t say that lightly, because people as pretty as you are can get a complex about it. But If I wanted someone with experience, I know plenty of selkies and sirens that are down for a good time. I don’t want them. I want you.”

Alec’s eyelids fluttered shut at the feel of Magnus’ hand on his face. No matter how much they’d tried training him to become accustomed to Magnus’ magic, the sensation still surprised him more often not.

Feeling mischievous, Magnus put a palm to his chest and shoved him flat on the bed. He laughed at Alec’s startled expression as he crawled over him, covering his lips with his own. Alec untangled his arms to reach up and wrap them around Magnus’ neck. Magnus caught his hands, twining their fingers together and pressing them to the mattress above Alec’s head. The feel of palm against palm drew a helpless groan from Alec’s throat.

“Oh my god,” he said.

Magnus nipped at his Adam’s apple, just enough teeth to catch him unaware. “Wrong all-powerful being,” he murmured.

Alec shook his head. His knees had come up to clasp around Magnus’ hips. His legs were surprisingly strong for their shadowhunter leanness. He set the pace of their friction, the push of their bodies against each other.

“Tell me to stop,” Magnus told him, “whenever it’s too much.”

Alec nodded quickly, nudging his hips up again. “Please.”

Magnus made them go slowly, more careful than he’d remembered himself being before. He kept Alec leading, helping him in the places where he became uncertain, holding his hips as Alec lowered himself down. He used his hands sparingly, mostly in the moments of discomfort, replacing the flickers of pain that crossed Alec’s expression with the more familiar bit-lip look of pleasure. It became harder as Alec found his rhythm, found the angle that drew out a gasp and then little breathy whimpers. Magnus dug his painted fingernails into his palms. When it became too desperate, Magnus’ need to touch him, he moved Alec to his stomach, one arm braced around his chest, the other hand tangled in his hair. They both found their finish that way, Magnus breathing heavily against the sweat-slicked skin of Alec’s neck, Alec muffling his cry into the pillow.

 

\----

 

A long stretch of silence after was spent with Alec’s head against Magnus’ shoulder. Their breath had long been steady when Alec crawled over Magnus to seek out his lips. He kissed him several times on the mouth before straying to press kisses against his cheeks, his temple, his eyelids. It wasn’t until he licked a quick stripe up the side of Magnus’ face, laughing as Magnus toppled him off of him, that the warlock realized the kid was feeling playfully affectionate rather than contemplative.

Magnus grabbed him, pinning his arms to his sides by wrapping himself around him, his front against Alec’s back. “Careful,” Magnus smiled, quickly taking his teeth to the boy’s earlobe. “I’ll bite you.”

He felt Alec shiver, from his voice so close to his ear, or from the way Magnus was sliding his hand down his stomach. If Magnus wasn't able to touch him the way he wanted during sex yet, he would find other opportunites to fill his appetite. Alec turned his head, twisting to kiss Magnus’ jaw, his exhale turning into a half-strangled moan as Magnus cupped the now-soft weight between his thighs.

“I’ll never get use to that,” he said once he had found equilibrium with the feeling.

“This?” Magnus gently squeezed. “Or what we just did?”

“Both,” Alec breathed out. He kissed the underside of Magnus’ jawline again. “Your hands, mostly. I feel like I’m in this fake world with you. Like everything happening outside isn’t quite as real as it used to be. Like it’s blurry, somehow, and everything inside your apartment is clear.”

Magnus hoped the emotion that flared at the boy’s words didn’t travel through to his hands. He didn’t know what it would feel like to Alec. The spike of happiness overtaken by an immediate, cavernous ache.

He had forgotten one could be young enough to not know how it feels to be falling in love.

Alec shifted in his arms, turning to face him. He tucked his elbows between them, one of his hands finding the beat of Magnus’ heart. It was an odd move that Magnus had noticed him do before.

“When you get sad like this,” Alec said, answering Magnus’ question about how many secrets his magic gave up. “Is it because you’re remembering someone else?

“It’s not bad,” he said quickly, cutting off Magnus’ apology about not being able to control his hands. “It doesn’t hurt. I just can feel it.”

Magnus waited to respond.

There were others, yes, men and women that held permanent places in his heart. People who had taken whole pieces of him when they went seeking afterlives in places he’d never be able to follow.

But those sadnesses has been locked away in their own countries and decades. What broke his heart now was that, in a blink, Alec would be one of them, king in his own cobwebbed corner of Magnus’ soul.

Magnus shook his head. “No,” he said. “I’m not thinking about anyone but you.”

He was grateful when Alec wrapped himself around him, squeezing him with his unexpected strength until Magnus fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for discrepencies from the books; it's been a while since I've read them. These two just wouldn't leave me alone.


End file.
